


Fallen Queen, Self-Made Princess

by ChildofWinter



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 18:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14195532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChildofWinter/pseuds/ChildofWinter
Summary: The place I put my Bubbline one-shots, largely fluff/light angst. I'll always put a warning before chapters with smut.





	Fallen Queen, Self-Made Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I just think Marceline is a perfect angel who deserves comfort and love.

"There wasn't enough room for more strings."

"I'm not a show-off."

"It just _feels_ like a bass, you know?"

Marceline gave a different answer every time. And if she were honest with herself, she couldn't quite remember the true answer anymore.

"Why did you turn it into a Bass guitar?"

The way she remembered it, Simon had had a hand in her decision. He had always had a fondness for showtunes and cheesy blues songs, and when she'd first modified the axe, she had taken to learning those same songs by ear. A way of remembering him.

But a thousand years is a long time. She may have made it for one reason, but her reasons for keeping it had changed over time. A place in a band for a few decades, then its sturdiness and weight might become more useful than its strings.

All this to say that if Marceline was, in fact, currently crying into the arms of a certain candy monarch, it shouldn't be held against her.

***

"I dig the new place," Bonnibelle said as she followed Marceline up the ladder into the treehouse. "Did you build this one?"

"I expanded it," replied the vampire, "added the upstairs bedroom. But most of it was here waiting for me." She floated around the dining room with her arms outstretched as she said the last, as if in presentation.

The Princess smiled and looked away, taking an interest in the corner or the room near another upward-leaning ladder. There lay the axe-bass she'd seen on occasion, as well as an assortment of chords and instruments for sound mixing.

"Care to play a homecoming ballad, Your Highness?" Her tone carried a teasing edge, poking at Marceline's ego.

The Vampire shot a half-hearted glare at her friend before replying lazily, "nah, it's getting late for me, I'm gonna get to bed soon. You're welcome to stay over if you like."

Bonnie blushed at the thought of sleeping over with Marceline, and was glad the other woman was behind her. She walked towards the bass and its entourage of equipment and knelt to get a better look.

"C'mon, Marceline. You've got to let me hear you play sometime."

It was Marceline's turn to blush. There was a reason she hadn't played for Bonnie yet. It had become an open secret between them that the vampire was avoiding that step in their friendship, but the candy royal didn't seem to have guessed why.

Truthfully, Marceline was certain that her friend's taste held no overlap with the kinds of music she knew how to play, and she was more fearful of Bonnibelle disliking her music than she was of most things.

So she remained wordless, but floated closer to the bass and the girl, watching the latter inspect the former.

The Princess's hands were mostly still, occasionally reaching out to run a finger over a chip in the blade, or to test the tension of a string.

Marceline became so lost in the act of following pink fingers and tracing the outline of the other girl's shoulders that she jumped slightly the Bonnie spoke.

"I like it."

"What?"

Princess Bubblegum didn't turn her face away from the instrument, but she sat back as she replied, "the bass. It looks... right for you."

Suddenly, Marceline was more alert than might have been sensible. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Bonnie began, now turning her eyes on the vampire, "it's cool, for one. A cool bass for a cool girl."

There was no hiding the blush this time. It rushed up from her chest to her neck, and attacked the tips of her ears too. She noticed as if for the first time just how green Bonnie's eyes were, and suddenly her heart was racing, and she couldn't begin think of why.

Bonnie smiled a sweet, friendly smile. If she had noticed Marceline's reaction, her face didn't show it. Then again, Marceline couldn't, from where she floated, see the goosebumps running along the Princess's back. Nor could she see what Bonnibelle saw; the grey face of a vampire suddenly bursting with the color of life, slit pupils becoming nearly invisible lines, then opening up as if to swallow her -- and a deep, desperate hunger within their dark shapes.

"But it fits you in a better way," she continued, forcing herself not to stutter. "You can tell it's been through a lot and come out the other side still strong." Her face grew earnest and open, letting Marceline know that this was an invitation, or at least an opportunity, should she take it.

"Bonnie, that's..."

"At first, it looks a little unfriendly, like it could cut you or tear open a finger if you're not careful." Her gaze grew distant, and she began looking at Marceline with the same intensity with which she had scrutinized the axe. " but when you touch it, it's clear that it's not so harmful. Keep your fingers in the strings and you're in no danger."

As she spoke, Marceline began floating closer, unaware of her motion.

"And it's an axe, which isn't for nothing. Its a weapon. But it's easy to see how dull its edges are."

Bonnie didn't notice Marceline approaching either, but her hand instinctively reached out and brushed along the Queen's jawline.

"But you turned it into an instrument. A tool for music, not war."

Neither one seemed to be aware of how precious few inches remained between their faces, nor how quiet Bonnie's voice had become.

"Its old, and dented, and it's not doing what it was made for. But that makes it more beautiful than it otherwise would be."

Marceline paused. She and Bonibelle noticed at once that there was less space between their lips than between the strings of the bass and the fretboard.

But it was too late. Even as they both came to their senses, Marceline registered what the other woman had said.

And without warning, like clay on stone, she broke.

It was to the both of them as if the vampire was suddenly a child again, weeping at the ruined world she had so long ago tried to forget. Tears crashed down her cheeks, and her sobs seemed to shake the earth more than make any sound at all, and Bonnie was left wide-eyed and shocked, feeling the weight of a grieving woman press into her shoulder and the warmth of sorrow soak into her sweater.

***

Her reasons for making the axe had been one thing, and her reasons for keeping it were many. But at some point, she began carrying it with her more often, and playing it more freely and frequently. She had one reason for this, even after fighting and responsibility came between the two women. A sunny afternoon, a wooden floor, and the word "beautiful."


End file.
